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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239714">S I B Y L</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orjustkukki/pseuds/orjustkukki'>orjustkukki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, i am at episode 23 and i am having emotions, i will add more as soon as i know what i'm doing, martin has a crush</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:09:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orjustkukki/pseuds/orjustkukki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin doesn't feel like he has any more time. Something cold is creeping closer and closer and he needs to talk to someone before the cold gets him. There are too many questions. Where does the mark come from? Why is it an eye? Why is it now closed? And why does Martin understand Greek all of the sudden?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>S I B Y L</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurryfaceThalia/gifts">blurryfaceThalia</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>heyyy<br/>i am dedication this work to jesse (and my wife, hey, love) for they are out there feeding my hyperfixation on a certain archivist and his hopefully soon to be boyfriend (i love you, martin T_T)</p>
<p>anyway, i don't really know where i'm going, but i do hope you have fun. this isn't going to be happy actually.<br/>&lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You look scared", Jon says as I stumble into his office.<br/>
"Start recording. Now."<br/>
"Hi, Jon. How was your day? Could you please start recording? I have something of importance to say. Oh, sure. I'm pretty good, Martin. Let me just get the recorder." He mocks me which shouldn't surprise me. I tend to overreact, but I don't overreact right now.<br/>
"Please", I add and he points at the chair on the other side of the desk. I sit down, he pulls the recorder closer.<br/>
"What happened?"<br/>
"I don't have much time, please just ..." I feel like something cold touches my neck. I'm running out of time quicker than I thought.<br/>
Jon starts recording, introducing me like I'm an idiot, but that's also something that's not surprising to me. I probably am an idiot given the fact that I messed with something I still don't understand.<br/>
"Thank you. So, I was in the city library, just browsing for something to read. You know how I sometimes need a break from supernatural stuff and read maybe about magic as something good and not some fear-inducing no-good-deed-mystery? I was this close to finally start looking into Harry Potter, but then I noticed something else. Not a book, but a door. It was open, there was light in the room behind and there was no sign on it telling me to not step inside."<br/>
"So you did?" I almost shriek as Jon interrupts me. I completely forgot his existence for a moment, only focusing on what to say and blocking out everything else.<br/>
"Yes. of course I did. I went into the room and looked around. The door slammed shut behind me and the light went out. I'm not really scared of the dark. Okay, a little bit I have to admit. I had my phone with me and used the screen as a torch, but the darkness felt thick and cold. The light couldn't really cut through it. I stepped back to the door, but it didn't open. Obviously I started to panic and knocked and yelled, but no one seemed to hear me. At least no one outside the room. Behind me I felt something incredibly cold like someone was holding an ice cube or something to my neck. Not as wet, but it started to hurt." I touched my neck, where I could feel the cold.<br/>
"Could it be that someone just tried to trick and scare you a little?"<br/>
"No. No, I'm sure it was something else. I heard a whisper. someone said "yYou have no time left. Go, run, but we will get you." or something like that? I don't really remember, it's very blurry. "<br/>
"Could still be a very good planned joke."<br/>
"I don't have any friends beside the people here and who would do that anyway? It was a ghost."<br/>
"One? The so-called ghost said "we", right?"<br/>
"Yes, it did. She? He? I don't know it wasn't really a voice. But i don't know who they are." Jon sighs and leans back in his chair, raising one eyebrow. I shouldn't feel like I'm lying because I don't, but Jon's eyes always make me admit something I didn't do. He would be a good detective, but he seems to be just fine in this office, surrounded by dust and scary stories.<br/>
"So? What gives you the impression that you don't have any time left?"<br/>
"I can feel the cold touch again. It followed me here. It's here."<br/>
Now he looks concerned, sits up and seems to be searching for something.<br/>
"How do you know?"<br/>
"I can feel it, you ..." I swallow a curse. "Here."<br/>
I turn around and point at my neck. I hear Jon gasp.<br/>
"What?"<br/>
"Can't you feel anything?"<br/>
"What? No? What's wrong?" I sound like I’m about to have a panic attack which could be the case, but I rather drop dead than allow myself to cry in front of any of my coworkers.<br/>
“Careful”, Jon says, which feels more like something he’d say to himself not to me and I’m sure he said it to himself because he carefully touches my neck. His hand feels incredibly warm, almost boiling hot. I clench my teeth because his fingertips are too much, almost physically hurtful, but mostly because I'm a mess and can't control my emotions.<br/>
"There's a mark. An eye."<br/>
"What the ..." I try to feel it, I can't. Just cold skin under my fingers. I cover my neck and turn back to Jon. He starts drawing the eye on a piece of paper. It's simple, like a Sunday newspaper comic eye and I wish it would mean nothing for me personally like the Sunday newspaper comics. They are satire and try to bite off a piece of ground from politicians until they fall. I don't read enough newspapers to really know what I'm talking about though.<br/>
Jon describes the eye and just stares at it for a while.<br/>
"Do you recognize it?"<br/>
"No. I think. I could look through the files i already have, but I don't know if I will find something."<br/>
"And I don't have that much time."<br/>
"What does the cold feel like?", he asks and I shiver. I don't want to focus on it, I don't want to think about how Jon doesn't seem to feel the sinking room temperature.<br/>
"Cold." I dare to laugh because it makes me feel better, but Jon seems to not like my joke. He still looks worried and I feel bad because he has to worry about me. "It feels like someone is holding on to me, only connected where the eye is. The whole room got colder. Don't you ... don't you feel it?"<br/>
"No." His breath draws little clouds into the air. I am trembling slightly at this point.<br/>
"Oh. It’s like a sunny winter day? Warm enough to melt the snow, but windy and the cold stings your skin." It hurts, but I don't say it. It really, really hurts.<br/>
"Are you okay? Do you see anything?"<br/>
"No, it's just the cold and fear and a lot of that too, but what's new, am I right?" Jon sighs.<br/>
"I know I don't take you seriously sometimes, but when you feel unsafe then I worry about you." A sudden urge to run away hits me. I don't want to bother Jon, I don't want him to worry. It was probably nothing. Maybe I'm just catching a bad cold.<br/>
"That's very kind of you, but I will just ... end recording", I mumble and press the button, stand up and turn around.<br/>
"Martin?"<br/>
"Martin? That's your name? Oh, I like it.'' I want to think that Jon just said something weird, but the voice ... The voice was the same as the voice in the library. Whispering, bodiless, almost just like loud wind. I look around.<br/>
Still no... no. There is a shadow in the corner of my eye, but as soon as I really try to take a look it's gone. And yet it creeps closer.<br/>
I can see my own breath, little clouds that escape from my lips. It’s something I always liked about winter, but now it's frightening.<br/>
The shadow is close, the same thick darkness as before, slowly covering my eyes.<br/>
I think I'm screaming.<br/>
Then I lose consciousness.</p>
<p>"Martin? Martin, wake up."<br/>
I hear a voice and before recognizing it I am just happy it's a real voice. Then I realize it's Jon who's talking to me. I open my eyes fully, relieved that the sticky blackness has gone ... elsewhere.<br/>
I'm not cold anymore and I already almost forgot what it felt like to freeze inside a comfortably warm room.<br/>
"What happened?"<br/>
"You collapsed and started mumbling and screamed. I wanted to call an ambulance, but you're awake now so ... are you okay?"<br/>
I don't know.<br/>
"Yes", I say. Jon smiles which happened once since I knew him. It suits him. “Did i say something embarrassing?"<br/>
"No. I couldn't make out what you said."<br/>
"Might be better." I smile and try to get up. Jon helps me, holds my hand for a moment longer than necessary, but that could still be my dizziness making time feel a little more relative than usual.<br/>
"Are you still cold? Did anything happen?"<br/>
"No, i ... it's all gone. I saw some shadow creeping near me and then I passed out. Dear god, I passed out like an old lady."<br/>
"It was more like a maniac in a very problematic movie about early 20th century asylums, don't worry." I laugh a little. Jon doesn't.<br/>
"Sorry."<br/>
"You should go get some rest." He's probably right. "Should I bring you to your room?"<br/>
"No, I can walk. Thank you. Thanks for listening."<br/>
"I didn't really have a choice, but you're welcome."<br/>
Again I smile because I don't know what else to do. I am still unsure how I feel, but it is better than a few minutes ago.<br/>
"See you tomorrow?"<br/>
"Unfortunately, yes." He sounds amused and rolls his eyes as I laugh. “Tell me if something happens, okay? I’ll be around for another two hours or so. Or call me.”<br/>
“I will.” He’s caring too much and I feel bad again. I turn around and head for the door.<br/>
"Martin, your ... your eye." I think he's talking about my eyes at first. I have the very common amount of two which would make his wording odd, but then I remember the eye on my neck.<br/>
"Yes?"<br/>
"It's closed."</p>
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